


every breath (is a second chance)

by seekrest



Series: IronDad Bingo [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (he just needs a lil love you guys), Angst with a Happy Ending, Flash Thompson Redemption, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “Hey Parker!”Peter rolled his eyes moving forward - gripping his backpack closer to him. Michelle was waiting for him at the library and Peter had had enough of Flash for the day.He’d been on his case all week, more so than usual. Peter could take it most days but he’d reached his limit - exhausted from patrol last night and annoyed that he hadn’t had the chance to study for his Spanish quiz.“Parker, I’m talking to you.”“And I’m ignoring you, Flash. Get with the program.”—IronDad Bingo: Gunshot
Relationships: Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: IronDad Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652680
Comments: 36
Kudos: 716





	every breath (is a second chance)

“Hey Parker!”

Peter rolled his eyes moving forward - gripping his backpack closer to him. MJ was waiting for him at the library and Peter had had enough of Flash for the day.

He’d been on his case all week, more so than usual. Peter could take it most days but he’d reached his limit - exhausted from patrol last night and annoyed that he hadn’t had the chance to study for his Spanish quiz.

“Parker, I’m talking to you.”

“And I’m ignoring you, Flash. Get with the program.”

Peter can hear the footsteps behind him, rushing up to him in a huff.

“Come on Parker, what the hell’s your problem?” Peter keeps walking. He can still hear Flash running up to him, a part of Peter wondering if he actually needed something.

“Parker.” Peter sighs, knowing that Flash would damn well follow him to the library if he didn’t see what he wanted - already seeing the annoyed look on MJ’s face if he did.

“What do you want, Flash?” Peter asks as he turns around, staring Flash down.

“I want, I need—“ Flash wheezed, trying to catch his breath. Peter would almost feel bad for him, if it wasn’t the same person who had tried to make his entire high school experience a living hell.

Whatever it is couldn’t possibly be that serious, not enough to chase after him.

“You have—chem notes.” Peter barely stifled a laugh, shaking his head.

“You ran half a block for some notes?”

“No. I ran because you— took _my_ — chem notes.” Flash wheezes, putting his hands on his knees. “And I need them back, before the test tomorrow.”

Peter gives him a look, going for his backpack.

“I’m pretty sure I’d know if I took your notes, Flash.” Peter watches as Flash wipes some sweat off his forehead, zipping open his backpack.

He knows that even if he did take Flash’s notes - which seemed unlikely, they didn’t even sit at the same desk for chem class - that for all the shit Flash gave him, Peter should just let him suffer. It’s not like if the roles were reversed that Flash would care.

But Peter was better than that, Ben and May had raised him better than that. So he checked anyway.

As expected, he didn’t, Flash’s face turning from one of exhaustion to confusion.

“What do you mean you don’t have them?”

“I mean I don’t have them.”

“You have to. You were the only one by my lab desk.”

“Your desk is by the door, we all pass by it.” Flash shook his head, Peter zipping his backpack up and swinging it over his shoulder.

“No, I saw you take it. Our notebooks look the same. Check again.”

“I’m not checking—” Peter’s senses start to go off, immediately straightening his back.

“You listening, Parker? I said check—“

“Shut up.” Peter put a hand to Flash’s mouth.

Something was wrong.

He can hear Flash’s muffled indignation under his mouth, could feel him wriggle under his grasp - surprised that he couldn’t. But Peter lifted a building off of himself, controlled himself all the time to not give suspicion. He wasn’t about to let Flash overpower him - not now.

Not when something was about to happen.

Peter hears it before he sees it, a man walking towards them from the alleyway.

“Peter, the fuck—“ he hears Flash’s muffled words, his hands trying to move Peter’s in vain.

The man walks faster, Peter’s senses going haywire.

“Get out of here.”

“Like hell I am, give me my notes Parker. I’m not kidding around anymore.”

The man gets closer to them, the sense of dread building in his stomach the closer he gets to them. He’s walking with purpose, the kind of stride of someone who knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going.

If he was by himself, Peter could handle it without a problem.

But Flash was there, looking back at him furious and Peter - for all his aggravation - wasn’t about to let him get hurt.

“I said—“ Peter lets his hand off Flash’s mouth only to put it out in front of them, just when the man from the alley brings out a gun.

“Don’t make this difficult.”

“What do you want?” Peter asks, tensing his shoulders. 

“To send Stark a message.”

Peter sizes him up, hearing Flash’s stupid voice ringing through the air.

“Wait Stark? What the hell does he—“

“ _Shut up._ ” Peter’s voice is sharp, eyes still on the man in front of him.

The expression on his face is neutral, gun still pointed towards them. Flash seems to finally realize what’s going on, Peter wincing at the panic in his voice.

“Whoa whoa whoa hold on, what’s going, Parker give him your wallet. Here sir, you can have mine, I don’t need—“

“Shut. Up.” Peter sharply whispers, trying and failing to make the connection of who was in front of him. Everything in him is screaming for him to run, to leave, swing himself away.

He could’ve, if it was just him. But Flash is there, panicking - and doesn’t know Peter’s secret.

So Peter does the next best thing.

He deflects.

“Look, it sounds like you got a personal issue and I’m just an intern, so you might want to take it up with HR or something, have them—“

Peter doesn’t get the chance to finish his statement when the shot rings out.

* * *

It’s hot, burning, Peter almost bewildered at how gravity shifts. One moment he’s staring into the eyes of a stranger and in the next he’s on the ground, eyes to the sky.

Peter saw him go for the trigger, had a half-second to move, but Flash beside him threw him off - a question of how he could move so quickly without causing a scene.

But now Peter’s on the ground, his breath hitching as it suddenly starts to get harder to breathe.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, he shot, he shot you! Help! Police! Help!” Flash is screaming, Peter’s ears ringing as he gasps out in pain. He sees Flash’s head hover over him, the panic clear in his eyes.

“Peter!?

“Call—“ Peter coughs, his chest burning. It’s like the wind’s been kicked out of him, Peter’s eyes glancing towards where the man had been.

He’s gone, just as quickly as he had appeared but Peter’s thoughts are elsewhere, wheezing as he tried to focus.

“Oh shit, what do I do? What do I do? I’m calling 911.”

Flash goes for his phone and Peter tries to extend his hand out to stop him but his arm feels like lead, seeing spots in his vision. It hurts to breathe, hurts to think, but the rational part of his brain is telling him that going to the hospital is a bad idea - even if he’s slowly starting to forget why.

“No—no 911.” He pants, his eyebrows furrowing are how far away his voice sounds. He feels a pressure on his chest, looking down to see Flash’s hand over where he’s been shot - blood pouring over it as he tries to take out his phone, hands shaking as he tries to dial.

There’s blood everywhere, enough that it makes Peter dizzy. The burning hasn’t gone away but Peter’s distracted, watching in a daze as Flash seems to argue back.

“What the fuck do you mean no 911? You’re gonna bleed out if we don’t do something.”

 _Bleed out?_ Peter thinks, taking a beat too long to realize what he was saying - still bewildered at the worry in Flash’s eyes.

Flash wasn’t nice to him, never had been. For him to be so worried must mean that it’s serious.

“Call Tony.” Peter garbles out, coughing up what he assumes is blood - his whole body shaking as he does, wincing. When he opens his eyes again, Peter sees the anger in Flash’s eyes - thinly veiled under the fear.

“Enough with the bullshit, Peter! I’m calling—“

“Call…T’ny.” Peter feels his eyes start to flutter, hand trying to press down on the watch that he gave him. Flash sees what Peter’s trying to do and shakes his head in confusion, Peter hoping that his jostled movements were enough for the watch to do its job - to send his location before the cops got there.

Peter can hear Flash start to talk again but it’s like his voice keeps getting further and further away, a ringing in Peter’s ears overtaking anything else as his chest heaved. His eyes start to feel heavy, Peter thinking that he needs to keep them open even if he can’t remember why. His lungs feel as if they were on fire as he tried - and failed - to catch his breath.

Peter can’t really bring himself to focus on anything else, feeling Flash’s hands pressing downward on his chest - trying to stop the bleeding.

It hurts to breathe. Hurts more than Peter can really make sense of, more than the last time that he’d been stabbed. But even if Peter starts to feel himself start to drift in and out, Flash’s voice is suddenly loud - making Peter’s eyes snap open.

“Don’t die, Parker! Come on man, don’t die okay?”

Flash sounds… concerned, more than Peter’s ever heard him before, feeling his hands start to shake.

“Stay with me, man alright? Please don’t die. Please, please don’t die.”

Peter doesn’t plan on it but the back of his throat feels thick - enough that he starts to choke, coughing up blood even as Flash’s eyes widen.

“Shit. Shit. What do I do? What do I do?” He can hear Flash stammer, his voice drifting away.

It’s a blinding pain that is relentless, even as Peter starts to feel that the darkness that had been edging around his vision start to become more and more prominent.

Before he fades off into unconsciousness, the last thing he hears is Flash’s pleas - begging Peter to stay awake.

* * *

For as many times as he’s woken up in the med bay - more times than he can even count, this is the first time Peter has woken up alone.

His mouth feels dry, the beeping from the heart monitor a little too loud - trying to open his eyes even if they feel heavy.

When he finally succeeds, Peter blinks a few times and tries to swallow down the scratchiness in his throat quietly - only to realize that there’s no one else in the room.

May or Tony were usually there by his bedside, if not one then both - fussing over him in a way that would sound exasperated to Peter if he knew they weren’t relieved he was okay. But taking in his surroundings, realizing he was alone gives Peter time to think - time to try and make sense about what happened without someone else telling him what did.

The man with a gun had a vendetta - clearly - though the idea that he knew about Peter is something he’d have to tell Tony about. It didn’t seem like he knew his secret, but knowing the relationship was enough of a red flag - Peter remembering the lengths Tony had gone to keep him out of the spotlight even as his unofficial “intern”.

He wonders if Michelle knows he’s okay, knowing she’ll be pissed that he got hurt - always asking Peter if the universe had it out for him.

Peter closed his eyes, wincing at the sudden onslaught to his senses. It was difficult to focus when he was hurt, as if everything in the world - sights, sounds, colors - all dialed themselves way up. But since no one was there, Peter knew they assumed he was still asleep or recovering. The perfect chance for him to get information about himself without filter.

He listens for May’s voice in the hallway but doesn’t hear it, the voices blurring together until he picks out one above the rest - the familiar cadence making Peter relax even as he focuses on the words.

“It’s not your fault, kid.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, half-inclined to open his own eyes for how concerned Tony sounds. His mind immediately goes to Ned and the last time Tony had to console him, Peter getting dragged down by a car off the Brooklyn Bridge with Ned on the other line, panicking as Peter sank down lower.

But the voice that speaks up surprises Peter, remembering that it hadn’t been Ned with him today.

“But he could’ve died. I—I tried to stop it, Mr. Stark, sir and I just—I didn’t, I didn’t know what to do.”

Flash still sounds panicked, the anxiety in his voice so clear that even Peter starts to feel on edge. But then he hears Tony sigh, a more melancholic sound than frustration.

“None of us ever do.”

Peter hears something that sounds like choking, only to realize that Flash - _Flash_ \- is crying, assuming from how muffled the sound is that Tony was hugging him.

It’s bizarre enough for Peter to think he had to be dreaming, knowing that Tony had no admiration for the kid who picked on Peter like it was his job.

But then Peter knows that Tony understands Flash in a way that he never would - someone with privilege and money and a father who didn’t care, to never want for anything and to always be in control.

Though Peter could guess that it would’ve been terrifying for anyone to see him bleeding out on the street, for Flash it had to have been horrifying in more ways than one.

The fear of a person that he had harassed for years - dying in front of you, and being completely powerless to stop it.

Tony had never been a fan of Flash and his treatment towards Peter, but it seems as if he was looking past that - giving him comfort in a time when Flash really needed it, even if he didn’t deserve it.

It doesn’t surprise Peter, but it makes him smile all the same.

Flash quiets down after a few moments, Peter hearing him sniffle before Tony says, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Peter’s him say, still sniffling. “I should head home.”

If Peter wasn’t so attuned to the conversation, he might’ve missed Flash’s next words - Flash speaking barely above a whisper.

“Can we, uh—can I stop by Peter’s room first? Just to see if he’s okay?”

Peter can’t see the expression on Tony’s face but he can guess it, his mind conjuring up the look of mild surprise and respect that he knows Tony would give.

“Sure thing, kid. Let’s go.”

Peter wills himself to relax, steadying his breathing as he hears them walk towards the room. He feels guilty now for listening in, but isn’t looking to admit it just yet - already planning on pretending to be asleep when they arrive.

But as their footsteps get closer, hearing Tony whisper something encouraging in Flash’s ears- he can’t help but want to smile.

He and Flash weren’t friends. But hearing Tony talk to him as if he was Ned, assuring Flash that he was going to be okay, Peter was almost glad that it had been Flash who had been there with him.

Peter didn’t need the assurances, he was fine - safe, protected and loved.

But Flash did. And even if Peter was the one laid up in a hospital room, recovering from a gunshot wound - he’s thankful for Tony’s presence, if only to help someone who desperately needed it.

**Author's Note:**

> If this looks familiar it’s cause it is! Reposting my IronDad bingos for anyone who wants to individually bookmark stories :)


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